


The Battle to Stay Alive

by LMShnook



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Mentions of Johnlock - Freeform, Not really a ship fic, Other, Sad, Twisted Sheriarty, one and a half major character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1730348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMShnook/pseuds/LMShnook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another project for school, only this time it's a study in Jim Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes' perspectives of The Fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: Sherlock Holmes

“You’re ordinary, you’re on the side of the angels.” Moriarty drawls.

“Oh I may be on the side of the angels, but don’t think for one second that I am on of them.” I retort. He’s called me a hero just like all the rest. But I’m not a hero; heroes don’t insult every person they meet, even when they don’t mean to; heroes don’t isolate themselves for fear of being hurt by everyone around them; heroes are definitely not forced to commit suicide to save the few people they did let into their concealed world.

He stares at me with his cold, nearly black eyes. I can see the wheels turning in his head, figuring out his next move in this grand game of his. I dare not guess what he’s thinking; to try to worm my way into the mind of such a malevolent, psychotic genius would be a one-way trip. 

“No, you’re not ordinary. I see, you’re not ordinary. No,” he says in a gentle hush. I relax slightly under his gaze, perhaps there is a way to get out of this trap. “You’re me. You’re me!” he taunts with a smile that would make the devil proud. He puts his right arm out in a gesture of familiarity, and I take it cautiously, “Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you.” he nods as we shake hands.

Something does not add up. Why his right hand? He’s left handed. His words of praise do not match eyes, filled with hatred and hunger for desolation.

“As long as I’m alive, you can save your friends. You’ve got a way out.” he admits, looking away from me for just a spilt second before I’m once again subject to the scrutiny of his empty gaze. He smiles again, it isn’t the least bit comforting. “Well, good luck with that.”

Before I know what’s happened he’s put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. He falls back limply as his blood paints the pavement of the hospital roof. 

There is no choice now. Jumping off this roof is the only way to save my friends. 

'Friends. Who needs friends?' My conscience says, only it’s not my own voice I hear in my head. Even after death Jim Moriarty haunts my mind.

'What good are friends, Sherlock, if you’re just going to die alone anyway? John can’t save you now! Just think of how disappointed he’ll be. He’ll cry for days, I bet, cry and cry and cry…'

He laughs in my ear as I step up onto the ledge. One final hit before the real battle begins, the battle to stay alive.

'You’re gonna die alone Sherlock. I win.'


	2. Part 2: Jim Moriarty

I squint to look up into Sherlock’s eyes. He’s trying so hard not to feel right now, but only I can see past his mask into what he really feels. He claims to be prepared to do anything, prepared to burn in hell next to me, but I can tell he’s scared. 

I look up at him and I see…me. The person I once was before I was king of the criminal classes. The weak child I was before I became stronger. I desire so much to end that weakness… 

“No, you’re not ordinary.” I tell him, “I see, you’re not ordinary. No. You’re me. You’re me!” I can see how much my words sting him, hurt him. Now that he realizes we are just alike, and it makes me smile. I put out my right arm for him to shake, keeping my dominant hand concealed with the glittering gun I’m holding. “Thank you, Sherlock Holmes. Thank you. Bless you.”

He looks so assured in himself, he actually thinks there’s a way out! 

I ready the gun in my hand, the cold silver metal beginning to warm up in my grasp. “As long as I’m alive, you can save you’re friends. You’ve got a way out.” I pause, giving him some time to relax. “Well, good luck with that.”

Now, it’s showtime!

I can feel the barrel of the gun press against the roof of my mouth. It won’t be long now before my brains decorate the roof. Death never scared me, not like it scares Sherlock, and certainly not when I’m dying with a purpose. Sherlock and I are the same, we are equals. As long as the other is alive, neither of us is safe. If I have to die, I’m not going to let Sherlock enjoy that freedom for very long. I’m killing myself, but Sherlock is dying at my hand. See that Sherlock? I’ve killed you.

I win!


End file.
